Friday, 23 November 2007

Tag You're It

I've been tagged by the lovely Jen. So here goes (funny, I'm usually the chain-breaker...see, it's just that Jen's so nice :-)

The Rules:

1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.

Done.

2. Share 5 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.

Random or weird. Maybe random and weird? You see, nobody thinks they're weird, but the nice thing is we all are, so let's celebrate a little weirdness, eh? And randomness...

1. If I make a mistake when I type (a spelling error, for example), I backspace all the way back to where the mistake was made, erasing everything in my path, and start over again. I don't know if that's weird or just a little obsessive-compulsive, but there you are...

2. Both polar-fleece and cotton balls are like nails on chalkboard for me. Serious goosebumps and icky-shivers. If you ever want to get me to confess something, just stick my hand in a jar of cotton balls...

3. I haven't brushed my hair for a couple of years. What? It's clean, just not brushed! My Mom needed a comb once at our place and the only thing I could find (to her utter bewilderment and slight horror) was Safiya's baby comb. Don't come to our house if you've got knots in your hair. Well, you can come over, we just won't be able to help you...

4. When I was little, I used to hide places and read. Everybody did, right? I lived on a farm...where I was supposed to work. So I took my books and I hid - in the empty giant wooden bins that were used to ship peaches to the canners. In trees. In the family car, lying down, with the window cracked for air just a little so that it wouldn't be noticeable. In the upstairs of the barn, where the baskets were kept - I would burrow in, making tunnels in the baskets, and bring a flashlight..."Oh there you are!" My Mom would say. I was really good at hiding :-) I don't really think behaviour like that is applicable to adult daily life, but wouldn't it be fun?

5. I can eat an entire jar of pickles. Just the homemade kind. In one sitting. Ask my Grammy about what happened to her stash of pickles when I house-sat one time for them...

3. Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.

I echo Jen's sentiment about this part making one feel shy, but here goes:

hehe. I agree on the cotton ball issue and as for combing my hair...too many curls to get through!! I'll give this one some thought and post later in the week or early next week. Work is hell right now. :)

Welcome!

This is my hopefully simpler, make-do, crafty, dirt-under-the-nails life with my little family in our little house in the middle of big Toronto. Feel free to poke around, start a conversation, borrow ideas, and share ideas.

Please note that tutorials are not intended as patterns for commercial use. Also, do not copy content or photographs without my permission, but feel free to contact me if you wish to do so.Thanks,Marnie Saskin

i go here when i'm hungry...

*and hence, the name

'Now, I'll try you again. Suppose you were going to carpet a room. Would you use a carpet having a representation of flowers upon it?'

There being a general conviction by this time that 'No, sir!' was always the right answer to this gentleman, the chorus of No was very strong. Only a few feeble stragglers said Yes; among them Sissy Jupe.

'Girl number twenty,' said the gentleman, smiling in the calm strength of knowledge.

Sissy blushed, and stood up.

'So you would carpet your room -- or your husband's room, if you were a grown woman, and had a husband -- with representations of flowers, would you,' said the gentleman. 'Why would you?'

'If you please, sir, I am very fond of flowers,' returned the girl.

'And is that why you would put tables and chairs upon them, and have people walking over them with heavy boots?'

'It wouldn't hurt them, sir. They wouldn't crush and wither if you please, sir. They would be the pictures of what was very pretty and pleasant, and I would fancy --'

'Ay, ay, ay! But you mustn't fancy,' cried the gentleman, quite elated by coming so happily to his point. 'That's it! You are never to fancy.'